


appearances

by Svynakee



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Borderline crackfic, Gen, OC POV, Oneshot, Post-Game, Then this is the fic for you!, have you ever thought about how random npcs saw Link?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 10:11:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12679740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Svynakee/pseuds/Svynakee
Summary: Sholt is just your average Hylian man. On a sunny day during his travels, he meets someone who... doesn't fit that description.[Alternative summary: what if Link spoke to people exactly the way his terse yet friendly dialogue options imply, doing all the crazy superhuman - superHylian? - things he does, forwarding the cause of justice while also causing widespread confusion with his quirky behaviour?]





	appearances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ruenis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruenis/gifts).



> I'm not exactly sure where this takes place in-game, since I can't really find a good location for it. But I imagine Sholt travelled out of Kakariko and along Rikoka Hills during this encounter.
> 
> I should not write fic at 2am in the morning. 
> 
> A word of thanks to Ruenis for staying with me throughout its haphazard creation.

It was a sunny day, perfect for a leisurely ride along the hill paths of Lanaryu. To the left the ground dropped away to reveal a breathtaking vista of the Lanaryu Wetlands, with its ribbons of green land and patches of blue water that gleamed silver in sunlight. To the right the land rose upwards towards the sky, fields of tall wild grass swaying gently in the breeze. For Sholt, there was only his trusty piebald steed, the dirt road stretching out before him and the hearty promise of a peaceful day’s journey.

A distressed neighing from up ahead made Sholt spur his horse into a canter.

“Ho there! Do you need help with your horse, young lady?” he called out. By the time he reached the source of the noise, the rider had already soothed her steed. The Hylian turned her attention to Sholt.

“I’m not a lady,” the man wearing woman’s clothing said. He kept his hand idly stroking the horse’s neck as he appeared to mull over a thought, before adding, “This isn’t my horse, either.”

Now that they were riding alongside each other, Sholt could see that his fellow traveller was indeed male, despite – or perhaps because of – the sheer top, veil and pants he wore. 

Coughing to hide his embarrassment, Sholt asked, “Why are you wearing those clothes, then?”

“I just came from Gerudo Town,” the young man said. He kept looking out towards the wetlands, turning his head to scan the vast expanse of glittering water and meandering green paths.

Sholt waited for further explanation. None seemed to be forthcoming. Very carefully, as he had begun to suspect the young man’s mental stability, Sholt said, “We are in Lanaryu.”

The young man nodded. The fact that Gerudo was more than a month’s travel away didn’t seem to bother him.

Sholt wondered how to proceed. The man’s outfit offered little protection – and a lot of bare skin for the eye to wander to – but he was armed to the teeth. A surreptitious glance at his back showed that he was carrying a bow, a full quiver and a sheathed sword. A lunatic on a horse was worrying. A lunatic with weapons on a horse was extremely alarming. Keeping his voice casual, Sholt asked, “Where are you going? Perhaps I can accompany you. Even with Calamity Ganon gone, these roads are still dangerous.”

“I’m meeting a friend.”

In the middle of nowhere? “I see. Do you know when they’ll arrive?”

“He won’t come here.”

Sholt was glad that the man kept turning to look at the wetlands since it meant he couldn’t see Sholt’s incredulous expression. His peaceful ride seemed to be getting more troubling with every word the young man said. Speculations about this Hylian dressed in Gerudo clothing on a black horse began to dance through his mind. Roving monsters and desperate times had created a fair amount of orphans in the past few years. Treasure hunters often toed the line between reckless bravery and outright insanity. Or perhaps an escaped slave of some exiled Gerudo criminal band, forced to dress provocatively, yes, the Gerudo were all women weren’t they, it wouldn’t be far-fetched for them to kidnap a young Hylian boy, especially one with such striking blue eyes and soft golden hair and slender shoulders…

A crunch snapped him out of his thoughts – and not a moment too late, they were getting a bit distracting – and Sholt turned to see his mysterious travelling companion eating an apple. He’d lowered his veil to do so and Sholt realised that his face was somewhat feminine, but not in any unpleasant way, no, quite the opposite, the youthful soft curve of his jaw rather complimented his small mouth. When he’d finished with his meal, the man reached forward to give another apple to his horse. This was when Sholt noticed that he had neither reins nor saddle; the man kept himself from tumbling to the dusty ground through sheer skill and thigh strength. Sholt tried to stop himself from thinking about the latter.

An apple was silently offered to him.

“Ah, no, thank you very much. This, uh, friend of yours. If you’re certain he won’t be coming, I would be happy to help you look for him.” Perhaps this ‘friend’ was a caretaker of some sort? It seemed more and more likely that this man deliberately avoided him… stole this missing protector’s weapons, hence the disparity between his clothing and his equipment… ‘not his horse’, of course…

The man shook his head. The jewel he wore on his brow glittered prettily as he did so, but not as prettily as his eyes, which sparkled with laughter. Sholt cursed the veil for hiding his lips, which were surely soft and pink and smiling. Not that he cared about that.

“I want to surprise him.”

“Surprise?” Sholt found his gaze draw to the weapons again. That was a good bow. A man could, with practice, shoot quite far with a bow like that. Especially if he had a high vantage point. Like, to name a purely theoretical example, a road overlooking the Lanaryu Wetlands. “That’s nice… and who is this friend, may I ask?”

“The prince.”

“We don’t have a prince,” Sholt said. He felt a brief moment of fear; this Hylian may be living in a world of his own devising, where the newly restored Zelda was indeed a prince. Shattering his delusions might prove unwise. Arrow-to-the-chest unwise. 

“The Zora Prince,” the man elaborated.

Sholt gave him a good-natured smile. “Of course. The Zora Prince. And you’re going to… surprise… him by not meeting him.”

The man looked hurt by this comment. “No. I’ll meet him.”

“Yes, of course you will,” Sholt amended hastily. “Forgive me, it’s just that the Zora rarely venture out onto these roads. They usually keep to the rivers.”

The man nodded.

“So… you’re going to meet this Zora Prince… in a river…?”

The man pointed.

“The river… down in the Wetlands…?”

He nodded again.

Sholt took a deep breath. This could be going too far. He might have the gallop away soon, with the threat of an arrow in his back… “Then isn’t it a bit strange for you to be up here, away from the Wetlands?”

“I’ll fly down.”

“You can fly?” Sholt got a sudden vison of the young man leaping from his horse down into the distant marshes, getting faster, eyes closed, unaware that he would become yet another set of bones in the muck. “You’re not a, haha, Rito in disguise, are you?”

“I’m Hylian.” The tone the man used was the patient one often employed by teachers or parents; it was the rare kind that was instructive and caring without being patronising, telling you that it was okay to take your time to understand. Sholt felt that that the tables had been unfairly turned.

Trying not to sound petulant, Sholt said, “Hylians generally can’t fly.”

The man nodded, having apparently decided to go back to nonverbal responses.

“But you think you can fly.”

As expected, another nod.

Trying to emulate the man’s patient, understanding tone, Sholt asked, “Have you ever seen another Hylian fly?”

A nod, then-

With a slight frown, as if in mild puzzlement, the man added, “He was dead, so maybe not.”

That’s called falling! “Have you ever hit your head very hard? Lost your memory?”

This got him a very enthusiastic nod. It was a nod that seemed to answer not only affirmative, but convey that if there was ever a world record on being concussed, this man was the reigning champion.

All fear of the man vanished, to be replaced with pity. Sholt was certain that he couldn’t in good conscience leave this inappropriately dressed youth to his own devices. Peaceful journey be damned, he was going to do the right thing. Hyrule needed more heroes and less tragedies. Cheerfully, he said, “You know what? I’d love to meet this friend of yours. But I can’t fly. So how about we just take our horses and ride down to him together? It’s a lovely day for riding.” 

The man looked uncertain. His expression of concern seemed to be directed at his horse.

Sholt realised. “You said the horse wasn’t yours, right? Who does it belong to?” Or might I ask where you stole it from, since it isn’t properly geared for riding?

“No one.” The man gave this some thought. “Its herd?”

“You’re saying its wild?” The horse was one of the ill-tempered thoroughbreds, its solid black coat stark against the green and blue scenery. There was no way this confused young man managed to tame it.

“I’ll let it go soon,” the man said with a smile. He gave the horse’s neck another pat. It whinnied happily at his touch.

Before either of them could say any more, there was a sudden guttural grunt from the tall grass ahead. A bokoblin had lain in ambush; it now reared its squashed head, yellowed fangs sharp in its wide mouth, its crudely made spear raised-

Its corpse thudded to the ground before the horses had time to startle. By the time they walked past where the monster had waited, its body had already disappeared in a puff of evil smoke to leave only its spear and a few sad pieces of bone.

Sholt turned to see the young man stowing his bow away. In a voice hoarse from shock, Sholt said, “It’s dead. In one shot. It’s dead.”

“Between the eyes,” the enigmatic stranger said, as if this was all the explanation needed for such an unexpected and masterful display of archery. The speed! The precision! Death, dealt with such ease that it almost spoke of disdain, disdain for all servants of Calamity Ganon, a brazen statement against evil made all the more powerful by its simplicity!

Sholt felt himself gripped by fear and respect, nay, this overwhelming emotion had to be awe! He had to know: “Who are you?”

The man gasped, then looked embarrassed. “Sorry. I keep forgetting to introduce myself. I’m Link.”

Link, Link! A name that seemed to hold significance, but for the life of him Sholt couldn’t recall why. It was a name he’d heard recently, he was certain of it, perhaps mentioned in passing or overheard. “Link, my name is Sholt. I must ask, are you a renowned warrior? With skill like that, you could be captain of the royal guard!”

Link blinked at him. “That’s too many jobs.”

“Too many…?”

“I’m on a break,” Link added cheerfully.

Sholt wanted to ask what job he was referring to, but Link’s attention was suddenly drawn to the wetlands. He detached a glowing slab from his belt and raised it to his eye. Whatever the purpose of such an action was, the results clearly satisfied Link, judging by his laugh as he returned the device to his hip. 

He dismounted gracefully, in a way that would allow a lewd observer to appreciate the way his pants outlined the curve of his backside. He gave the horse’s shoulder a gentle push. It began to trot away. Link waved to Sholt. “I’m sorry, I just saw my friend. I have to go.”

Before Sholt could gather his senses, the man had leapt from the road. Sholt urged his horse to the cliffside.

And that was when he saw a Hylian fly.

It wasn’t true flight. Link was gliding with the help of something that looked like a large kite, but it wasn’t falling, and Sholt found himself watching the airborne figure get smaller and smaller, all the time honing in on a river far below.

Just when he thought that no man could hang onto a kite for so long, Link dropped. In his mind’s ear Sholt heard the splash he made. He watched the part of the river where Link had disappeared.

Link resurfaced. He was on top of something. From this distance, it looked like a large log, save for its reddish hue. But then it began moving upriver, carrying its passenger on its midsection. Link was leaning forwards, as if to speak to the end of the log.

And Sholt couldn’t be certain, but it seemed like the log had arms that would sometimes rise from the water to gesture, such as a person might if they were conversing with Link.

The log could have been a Zora.

But surely, no Zora was so big?

Sholt sat on his horse and watched until a cloud floated lazily across the sun, cloaking the Wetlands in shadow. By the time it moved away, Link was nowhere to be seen.

There was no more black horse, or Hylian in Gerudo dress, or even bokoblin. Sholt was alone, on a sunny day, with his trusty steed and the road stretching out before him.

It was the perfect setting for a peaceful journey. 

But appearances, he realised, could be deceiving.

**Author's Note:**

> Link, he who Rides All Creatures, be they horse, stag, Lynel, bear... or Zora Prince. *wink wink nudge nudge*
> 
> It's my opinion that Link isn't shy and will happily speak with most people, but he never says much unless the situation demands it, and he often lapses into silence. He is, however, a great listener, which makes people feel like they can tell him about their troubles.


End file.
